Red Desert Sunset
by fluffmania207
Summary: Jane has gone off on his own to the Mojave Desert, chasing a lead that could take him to Red John. But he gets more than he ever bargained for, and it is up to his colleagues to find him before it's too late. Set pre-Red John capture, and before the suspect list
1. Sand

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: So, I've been writing a lot of Alternate Universe stories. Although they are fun, this short story is taking me back to basics. Set pre-Red John death, before the suspect list, so Jane is still on the hunt. I hope you like it.**

Chapter one – Sand

CBI consultant Patrick Jane squinted into the midday sun and shielded his cobalt blue eyes against the glare. The summer heat radiated down and soaked his suit jacket, making the garment too hot to wear. He was standing on the edge of the Mojave Desert, tracking an obscure Red John lead. Jane had heard from one of his sources that there was a murder that had happened out in the desert just before Red John started his killing spree

This murder bore similarities to Red John's style, and so Jane went out to investigate. He hadn't told his boss where he was going, because she would have insisted that she join him. But Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon couldn't seem to grasp the idea of revenge killing, and that this was a fight he needed to win alone.

Jane had tracked down the crime scene, an abandoned overnight hut about three hundred feet from the road. He took off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the driver's seat. He took one more long drink from the bottled water stashed beneath the passenger's seat of his Citroen, before slamming the car door shut. This would only take five minutes for him to just look the place over.

He began to stride through the loose sand, past some rather sad looking shrubbery, towards the hut. It had been used as an overnight stop for hiking trails and various extreme hunting groups in the area. But Jane surveyed the exterior and surmised that it had been abandoned for quite a number of years. The door was sitting crooked, and stood ajar. The hut was simple, four rooms and a wide porch. The front windows were grimy, and one cottage pane was missing.

It was hot under the porch, and Jane could feel the sweat penetrating into his vest and dampening his golden curls. He pushed the door further open and stepped into the room. There was sand piled up in the corners from the many dust storms that had blown through the area since the place had been abandoned. The room was dark, musty, and hot. The inside of the room felt like a sauna, and Jane decided he definitely wanted to get this over and done soon. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he stepped into the area. He scrutinised the front room and then moved on to the small dining area in the next room. The two back rooms used to hold old iron beds, but they had long since rusted away in the heat.

Jane walked into one room, and spotted several faint dark spots on the floor. Jane could see the outline on the floor of what was left of the beds, and saw that the dark spots lined up with one of the beds. He bent down to examine them, and had a hunch that they were blood spots. He stood up and turned around to leave. His heart caught in his throat. On the wall behind him – staring down at him in age-darkened blood – was a grotesque smiley face.

A movement to Jane's right caught his attention. He turned to face it, and something hard caught the right side of his face. He dropped to the floor, and the last thing he remembered was a pair of hands closing around his ankles.

Then darkness.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Teresa Lisbon picked up her coffee cup and walked through from her office into the bullpen. She saw Grace Van Pelt and Wayne Rigsby sitting at his desk going through case files, and Kimball Cho phoning down leads on their latest case. But when she looked over at the old brown leather couch in the corner, it was strangely empty. She turned to the rest of the team. "Anybody seen Jane?"

Cho shook his head. "Not this morning, Boss."

Lisbon flipped open her cell and dialed his number. Voicemail. She tried again. Voicemail. She turned to Van Pelt. "Van Pelt, see if you can trace Jane's cell phone. See where it pinged last."

The redhead nodded and sat down at her desk. Several minutes later, she looked up from her computer, very confused. "Looks like it last pinged here."

Lisbon walked over to the computer. She looked down at the screen and frowned in confusion. The last known tower that the cell pinged off of was about five hundred feet up the street from the CBI headquarters. Cho stood up and walked over to the couch. He pulled up the cushions, and pulled out a small black object. "Looks like Jane forgot this."

Lisbon took the phone from Cho and flipped it open. The battery was dead.

There was no reason to worry just yet, but there was cause for concern. Lisbon brushed the concern out of her mind. Jane could go missing sometimes, not tell them where he was going, and he would always turn up three days later with an excuse and an apology.

Four hours passed, and Lisbon was just getting ready to pack up for the day, when her email pinged on her computer. It was an urgent message, and so she dialed the number of the officer in charge. "Officer Henry."

"Hello. This is Senior Agent Lisbon of the CBI. I just got an urgent email from your department."

Officer Henry nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Seems we have a car sitting here on the side of the road. Belongs to a Patrick Jane. Employment says he works for you guys. We just wanted to let you know that he needs to come and fetch it."

Lisbon felt her blood turn to ice. "What is the exact location of the car?"

The officer read out the co-ordinates to her, and she triangulated the location on her computer. "Thank you, officer. We will send out an agent to fetch it for him."

"My pleasure, agent Lisbon." The officer cut the call, and Lisbon stood up.

She headed out to the bullpen. "Van Pelt, Cho, with me. Rigsby, you stay here. If you hear from Jane, call me immediately."

Rigsby nodded. Van Pelt stood up. "Where are we going, boss?"

Lisbon turned to the taller woman. "The Mojave Desert. Local PD found Jane's car abandoned on the side of the road."

 **A/N2: So, this is the start of a new story. Please tell me what you think. I do appreciate it. Thanks again.**


	2. Heat

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: Wow. The response has just been awesome. Thank you so much guys. I appreciate every review, favourite, or follow. Thank you again.**

Chapter two – Heat

Lisbon pulled the car up to the side of the road and switched it off. It was getting dark, and there was a stunning golden sun hanging low on the horizon. The three agents climbed out of the SUV and strode over to Jane's abandoned car. There were two officers sitting in their squad car waiting for the agents.

As the agents got close, the officers got out of their own car and headed towards them. "You guys here for the car?"

Lisbon nodded and pulled out her badge. She showed it to the officers. "When did you guys find it?"

The officer pulled out his notepad. "We came across it at thirteen hundred hours. Called it in. it took a while to verify the registration. As soon as the verification came through, we called you."

Lisbon looked at her watch. It had been a two and a half hour drive at cruising speed from the office, and the car had been found at one in the afternoon. So Jane had to have left sometime during the morning. He had been in the office the night before, so he hadn't been missing long.

Cho walked over to the car, and tried the handle. The driver's door opened, and a blast of hot air exited the vehicle. "Boss," said Cho, pulling a tissue from his pocket. "Look at this."

Lisbon headed over to where Cho stood. He reached into the car and pulled out Jane's suit jacket. He went into the pockets and pulled out a melted sweet, and then Jane's identification card. Lisbon frowned. This was very unlike Jane to leave his jacket anywhere. She went into the car, and pulled out a bottle of water. It was almost empty. The keys to the car were still in the ignition. Lisbon stepped back. "Jane would never leave the keys in the ignition unless it was just a quick stop."

Van Pelt looked around in the dusk air. "Where the hell is he?"

Cho looked towards the sunset. "There is a hut over there. Maybe that was where he went."

The team headed in the direction of the hut, with the two officers wordlessly behind them. The three agents automatically drew their guns and Cho pushed the door open. There was a waft of musty air that blew past the agents as they stealthily and professionally began to scope the hut. The first two rooms held nothing – as for Jane – but Van Pelt entered the third room and stopped. "In here," she called.

Her colleagues and the two officers converged on her and they all examined the object spread out on the floorboard. It was a grey vest from a three piece suit. It was buttoned and spread out on the floor, almost like someone was waiting to wear it. Lisbon turned around and gasped. The rest of the people turned and all saw the dark smiley on the wall. It was large, and smeared carelessly, as though dreadfully unpracticed.

Cho looked at Van Pelt. "I think we know why Jane was here."

Lisbon looked pensively towards the west facing window at the cherry sun. "But where the hell is he now?"

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The first awareness was pain. A sharp pain on the right side of the head. Followed by a dull throb. The next sensation was temperature; it was a lot cooler than what he had expected. Textures against his skin, grains of sand, a rough rock. Soon, sound filtered through the fuzziness. The shuffle of sand, the hum of wind around the rocks, and the sound of breathing. Finally, sight began to return, slowly. Jane sat up slowly, fighting the dull ache in his head.

He looked around, not where he had expected to be. The last thing he remembered was the hut, and the dark smiley. But now there was no hut. The air was an odd colour, and Jane felt disorientated by it. It was supposed to be blue, not red. He staggered to his feet and looked around. He was below a large outcrop of rock, and had been laid against the base. He lurched forwards and out into the dying light. There was nothing around him.

No shrubbery, no animals, no water. Nothing. Jane looked up at the rock outcrop. It was the only landmark for miles. The last of the fuzziness began to leave his head. "You're in a pickle now, Patrick," he murmured to himself.

Jane had no idea where he was. He looked down. His vest was gone. He wore just his simple blue shirt and suit pants. He dug around in his pockets for his monogrammed handkerchief, and came up with just a folded slip of paper. His pockets had been emptied of everything else. And with his vest gone, he had little protection against the icy air that was coming.

Jane opened the folded slip. He felt his face go pale as he read it.  
"Patrick," it read,  
"you walked right into my trap. Not so smart, are you? Good luck, you're going to need it.  
RJ."

Jane put the slip back into his pocket. The first order of business was finding out where the hell he was, and what direction he needed to travel. That he would plan in the next day, because it was too dark to do much else at this point in time. He turned and headed back to where he had woken up. That was when he noticed the dark patch in the sand.

He put his hand onto it. It was still a little warm, and sticky. He then touched the side of his own head. It came away covered in flecks of dried blood. The hit to the side of his head had knocked him out cold, and split the skin on his temple. The blood had congealed on the side of his face, leaving him looking a little bit like a horror movie character.

Jane knew that he had been left to die in the desert for a reason. Red John would have only used that as a last resort. Jane knew he was getting close to finding him. There was something in that hut that Jane wasn't supposed to know about, and he was determined to find out what, even if it killed him.

He dug himself a divot in the sand, and cuddled down into it. It was going to be a long, cold night.

The sun woke Jane early. He sat up, and shook the sand from his shirt. He was grateful for the relative warmth of the sun, because his night had been cold and fitful. He examined the rocky outcrop closely. If he could get to the top, he would be able to see his way out of there. He found a place that didn't look too crumbly or steep, and began a slow crawl up the rock face.

Soon, he was near the top, and felt his arms getting tired. He pushed through the pain and finally sat panting at the top of the rock. It was only about twenty feet off of the ground, but high enough to give Jane that little lurch of fear whenever he looked down. He stood precariously and turned all the way around. He had been laid on the eastern side of the rock, and the desert out to the west looked desolate and foreboding.

To the east, there was some sparse shrubbery, and what looked like a road far in the distance. Jane could clearly see the tarmac. But he couldn't tell how far away it was, or how long he would need to travel. It was too late in the day to start, and he decided to travel at night to avoid the searing heat. He spent the next half hour crawling precariously down the rock face, and stumbled the last few feet straight onto his face in the sand. He pushed himself up onto his knees and spat out a mouthful of crusty sand.

He crawled back into the shade and unbuttoned his shirt. He had no water, so he was conserving his energy as much as possible. The day got hotter and hotter, and Jane didn't know how long he would survive. He just knew that he needed to get back to where he belonged, CBI and aircon, before he ended up as another set of sun-bleached bones in the desolate wasteland he now called home.

 **A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing. Thank you and much appreciated.**


	3. Thirst

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: The response to this story has been amazing. Thank you so much. It really odes mean a lot to me.  
I haven't updated 'Red Rides And Retribution' yet because an AU story so far out of character takes a bit of planning. But please bear with me on that one, and enjoy the next update of this story. Thanks.**

Chapter three – Thirst

The sun hung low in the east, and Lisbon still hadn't slept. She had spent the night planning a search and rescue strategy to look for Jane. The rest of the team was with her, and the four of them pored over maps of the area, trying to determine where he could possibly be. The vest sat next to them in a sealed bag. The pockets had been searched, but nothing but sand had come up. Lisbon looked over at the vest. "We know that he was kidnapped. There is no way Jane would have removed his vest, buttoned it, and then spread it out so neatly in the outline of an old bed."

Cho nodded. "And there is also the fresh smears of blood on the floor, indicating someone or something was dragged from the room."

Rigsby looked at the map. "The question is, where did his attacker take him? And is it even possible to find him?"

Lisbon looked at the vest again, knowing that a certain blonde consultant would be the one with all the answers to the questions.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The team would be searching by now, Jane mused. How long had it been? One day? Two? Jane didn't know. The only thing he knew was heat. Terrible, terrible heat. And gut wrenching thirst. His mouth felt like sandpaper had been scraped over every surface.

Jane had stayed in the shadow of the monolith as much as he could. He had to move every two or three hours to keep out of the scorching sun, but he could still feel that his face was burnt from the heat radiating off of the white sand. Jane remembered a trick his father had taught him while hunting, and had managed to rip the bottom eight inches off of his dress suit pant leg.

In an uncharacteristic move for Jane, he had found a sharp edge on the south side of the rock at around midday, and had sliced the jagged oval into a long trapezoid. He had wrapped this around his neck and lower face. This had stopped the sun hitting the skin, but Jane knew that he couldn't prevent any burning that had already happened.

Jane conserved his energy after that. He knew he would need any reserve energy he had to start his journey towards the road he had seen. The sun, eventually and thankfully, began to sink to the west. It turned to a ruby gem, dancing brilliantly on the horizon and turning the bleached sand into a field of glittering gemstones. If Jane hadn't been so damn thirsty, he would have stood and appreciated the awesome sight. Even the pool of blood that had been left by Jane was illuminated in the cherry glow of the sun's final rays.

Eventually, after hours of grueling torture, the sun dipped below the horizon. Jane rose to his feet, and with the sun at his back, began to trudge.

Jane had picked east because – apart from the obvious promise of the road he had seen – he knew that there was shrubbery that side. Shrubbery meant water, and that was Jane's main focus. He reached the first straggly bush and began to dig below it. He pulled up the bulbous root system, and glanced to the side. His heart lurched within his aching ribcage. There was a white dome peeking up through the sand. Jane tentatively brushed some of the grains away, but instinct told him what it was. An ink black eye socket peered back up at him through the sand, and he felt sick to his core.

Jane brushed the sand away from the sun-bleached remains of the skeleton. There wasn't much left of the man to identify him. All Jane could tell was that the skeleton was a male. He could see as much from the shape of the pelvic bone. Several stray scraps of fabric clung to the bones. A leather belt held helplessly to the waistband of a pain of denim shorts, and Jane lifted it up. Strapped to it was a welcoming sight for Jane.

The man had not come to the desert totally unprepared, although Jane knew that he had to have lacked some preparation in order to be in this state. A long knife – still in its sheath – was still strapped to the belt. Jane pulled the knife out of the sheath, and held it up in the swiftly fading light. It was still sharp, looked hardly used. Jane smiled for the first time since he had woken up the previous evening, and crawled over to his root that he had dug up. He shaved off a handful of the flesh with his newly acquired tool, and squeezed the sweet liquid into his parched mouth.

Contrary to what his colleagues believed, Jane was a proficient outdoors man. He had read enough books, watched enough shows, and been on enough hunting trips with his father when he was young to know what he needed to survive. The plant, for example, was one his father had shown him when he was thirteen. The memory came back strong as soon as he tasted the relief on his crusty tongue. _'Paddy,'_ his father had said. _'Remember that plant. It will always be found over water, and can keep a dying man going until he finds help.'_

Amidst many of the unpleasant memories of his father and the carnival, the hunting trips and survival tips were always the pleasant memories that surfaced. Jane knew that those memories would save him now. He turned to the skeleton, and nodded his thanks. The dead man had at least offered a dying man a chance to live.

Jane searched the bones once more, but came up empty. The dead man had nothing more to offer. However, Jane stashed a single metacarpal from the carcass in his pocket. When he reached the CBI, hopefully they could have the man identified and his remains returned to his next of kin.

He continued his trudge, and had no way to tell how far he had walked. The dull ache in his head was getting stronger, and Jane felt himself beginning to stagger. He flopped down next to a second scraggly bush and spread out on his back in the sand. The ache subsided, and Jane shut his eyes. The last of the light was long gone, and Jane felt the temperature continue to plummet as the night wore on. He shivered in his thin dress shirt, and wished for his vest and suit jacket, just for some warmth.

Jane lurched to his feet and continued his drunken stumble towards the east. Midnight came and went, and Jane still found no shelter for the next day. Around four a.m, after close to nine hours of walking, Jane looked without seeing to his left. There stood a monolith, similar to the one he had woken up under. He turned slowly and trudged towards it.

The rocky mass loomed up above his head, towering in the blackness. He shivered in his thin dress shirt, and sank down against the eastern face of the rock. He would catch the early morning rays, and then retreat into the shadows for another day. Soon, the first rays of light began to break through the inky blackness, and Jane felt his breath slowing. He knew that he couldn't fall asleep, because he would only put himself at risk.

As soon as it was light enough to see, he started a precarious climb up the face of the rock to get a better vantage point. He got to the top, and wobbled on his weak legs. He gazed out to the east, and scowled. The road was no closer. Definitely not a mirage, but no closer than it had appeared the previous day. Jane scrambled down the face of the rock, and slipped. He fell, and landed hard. As he hit the dirt, a loud crack reverberated through his body, and a searing pain shot straight up his left arm into his skull.

 **A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please let me know how I am doing, and also any suggestions or ideas that you might have would be appreciated. Your feedback is very important. Thanks again. Hope to post soon :)**


	4. Pain

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing response. I really am blown away by the positive feedback you guys have given.  
To the several reviews I received concerning the second rock, all of that will be explained in the next chapter. Thank you for your concern though. I appreciate it a lot.**

Chapter four – Pain

The search teams began to fan out across the desert at the start of the second day. They were moving east, and the mid morning heat was already beating down on all of them. The search group was forty strong, but Lisbon knew that they were still looking for a needle in a haystack. She and Rigsby walked together, and kept any look out for any sign of Jane. Rigsby called out for Jane, and Lisbon suppressed a sigh.

She knew that this would be a very challenging search. Jane had been missing for almost forty eight hours, and the search teams had scoured over thirty square miles of desert in the last day. But the sheer magnitude of area to search for just one man was overwhelming. There was even a helicopter flying back and forth in search of any signs of life.

As the co-workers trudged on, the day grew hotter. The thought crossed Lisbon's mind more than once as she walked in the terrible heat. _'Does Jane have water? What will happen if we don't find him? And if we do, what condition will he be in?'_ Lisbon didn't voice her concerns to Rigsby. They needed to find Jane before any of those questions had answers.

The sun grew higher, and everybody in the search party each had their own thoughts about what had happened to Jane, and where he could possibly be.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Jane pushed himself up off of his face with his right arm. He spat out some sand, and gasped as a shock of pain hit his lower arm. He looked down at his left arm in disbelief. Both bones in his arm, the ulna and the radius, had snapped cleanly at his wrist. His hand hung awkwardly as he staggered back into the shade of the rock.

What Jane had observed on the top of the rock had concerned him. Although the road looked no closer, he couldn't see the rock he had spent the previous day under. He had made sure he was always walking with the North Star on his left, so he was certain he hadn't been walking in circles. He breathed deeply and focused through the pain on his footprints.

A thought occurred to him through his pain. He had been using the sun as well as the stars for navigation. But he had forgotten – in his extreme thirst – that the sun rose and set further to the southeast than the east. So he had thought that he was walking due east, but in fact he was walking southeast. That explained why the road appeared no closer. It also explained the reason why he hadn't seen the rock he now used as a shelter.

The sharp pain brought him back to the problem now presented to him. He pulled out the knife and examined his wrist closely. He awkwardly began to slice the bottom off of his remaining pants leg. After much patience and careful slicing, he created several strips to wrap around his broken wrist. He had nothing to brace it with, but he still wrapped the break as tightly as he dared. He then buttoned his sleeve around the makeshift bandage and pulled it tightly.

Once that was done, he pulled off the leather belt and hooked the ends together. He slid the belt over his head and hooked his arm through the bottom. He pinched the belt together above his arm, and fashioned a sling with leftover strips of his lower pants.

Once this was done, Jane feared that continuing any kind of strenuous travel would be impossible. He had to set up some kind of camp against this rock if he had any hope of surviving this harsh landscape. He staggered to his feet and began to search the area for anything he could use.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Lisbon took a long drink of her water and looked around for the umpteenth time. The sun was beginning to sink towards the west, and Lisbon knew that the possibility of finding Jane alive was getting smaller every minute. She and Rigsby had spotted a large rock in the distance, and made that their goal for the day. They continued to walk, looking, yelling, and always thinking and searching. The day grew to a close, and Rigsby and Lisbon reached the towering rock just as the sun touched the horizon.

Rigsby looked up at the rock. "This all seems hopeless, Boss."

Lisbon sighed. "Wayne, we have to find him."

Rigsby nodded and walked around the base of the rock. He looked down at the sand, and frowned. "Boss," he called. "Come look at this."

Lisbon put down the water bottle and walked around the rock to where Rigsby stood. Sheltered from the wind by the rock was a dark stain the size of a saucer. It did not appear to be deep, but Lisbon knew instinctively what it was. She knew it was blood. Lisbon bent down and examined the area just next to the stain.

Nestled in a sheltered alcove right at the base of the rock just to the right of the stain was a welcoming sight to Lisbon. It was the left hand print of a man. It was far too large to be a woman's hand. It was so clear that Lisbon figured she could probably take a fingerprint from the impression. Rigsby bent down to examine the print. "Boss, can you see the ring?"

Lisbon looked at the print again. On the second finger from the left, there was an impression of a ring. A battered, scuffed, damaged wedding ring. Lisbon's mind flew back to the amount of times she had seen her consultant spinning that ring around his finger while he spoke. This imprint told her all she needed to know. She pulled out her smart phone and handed it to Rigsby. "Take as many photos as you can."

She pulled out the satellite phone from her back pack and dialed Van Pelt. "Get people to my location. We will start a three-sixty search of the area in the morning. Jane has been here, and we have a chance of finding him."

Van Pelt gave her the affirmative, and used her portable computer back at the makeshift base set up at the hut to track the co-ordinates. She contacted the closest of the search parties and told them to report back to base. Six groups returned to her. She explained the situation, and gave them their new co-ordinates. They piled into the back of an open top jeep and headed off into the desert. Van Pelt worried about Jane. She prayed that he was still alive.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

While Rigsby and Lisbon walked, Jane lay down in the shade as the sun rose higher. He cradled his arm against his chest, and ran his thick tongue slowly over his cracked lips. In the small space of time he had had before the day got too hot to move, he had found several withered branches and a shrub. The shrub had provided enough water to get him into the afternoon. After that, he had no idea how he was going to survive the day.

He shut his eyes, and felt himself dozing as the day wore on. He opened his eyes, and looked up into a pair of startlingly deep blue eyes. They were framed by a cascade of white-blonde hair, and Jane frowned in confusion. "Angela?" he croaked, struggling to push himself upright.

The stunning blonde nodded, and Jane smiled. "Hello, Patrick," she said, running her hand delicately through his hair. Angela was wearing a long white dress, and didn't seem affected at all by the searing heat that beat down on both of them.

Jane shuffled himself backwards into the shade, wincing as he moved. "I don't understand," he croaked. "How…"

Angela pressed her cool finger to his lips and shushed him. "Don't speak, Patrick. Don't speak…"

Jane nodded and rested back against the rock. Angela sat next to him. "Patrick," she said, slightly scolding. "Why did you have to chase Red John into the desert? Did you not think for one second it was a trap?"

Jane nodded. He knew that it hadn't been the best choice to follow that lead alone. But Jane would never admit that Angela may be right. She looked over at him. "Look at you, Patrick. You're dirty, your pants are ruined, and you're dying of thirst in the desert with a broken arm. You should have known better."

Jane nodded. He swallowed and croaked out a response. "I'm sorry, Angela. I failed you and Charlotte."

A small hand enclosed Jane's right hand. "Daddy, I still love you."

Jane turned his head to the small voice and smiled. A pair of twinkling blue eyes gazed down into his. Charlotte's face was framed by long blonde curls, and she had inherited Jane's dazzling smile. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Daddy, why are you lying here in the sand? Your nice blue shirt is getting so dirty."

Jane smiled weakly. His daughter was right. She had always been a bright girl. And he knew that he should have worked harder for them both. Angela looked over at Charlotte. The two of them smiled, and Charlotte kissed Jane on the cheek. She was exactly as Jane had remembered her. She smelled of strawberries and cream, and Jane breathed in her scent deeply. He turned his head to Angela, and could smell the coal soap on her skin.

Charlotte snuggled closer to Jane, and he wrapped his good arm around her. Jane felt the pang of regret, guilt, and sadness envelop him, and he sighed. Charlotte and Angela sat with Jane as the day drew to a close. Nobody said anything. Jane didn't care if he was hallucinating or not. He deserved every second he had with his family.

It was finally dark, and Jane sighed as the cool air numbed the pain in his arm. He was acutely aware of Charlotte moving against his side. She crawled up and bent close to his ear. Her soft sweet voice and cool breath tickled his ear. "You are safe, you are loved, and you are wise."

 **A/N2: Thank you for reading. Your opinion in a review would be very much appreciated. The next chapter will be up soon. Thanks again.**


	5. Help

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: Your continued support as I write has been amazing. I really do appreciate each review, follow or favourite. I tried to keep Jane's interaction with Angela and Charlotte as realistic as possible, so thank you for the positive response on that too. Enjoy the next chapter.**

Chapter five – Help

Lisbon and Rigsby waited, as the sun disappeared below the horizon, for the jeep to arrive. Soon, it pulled up where they waited, and the twelve men disembarked from the vehicle. Lisbon congregated the men around her. "Mr Jane was definitely at this rock." She indicated towards the blood stain in the sand. "He is injured, and so couldn't have gone far. At first light, we will search three hundred and sixty degrees around this rock for him."

She outlined each direction the groups would travel, and the area that they would be covering. Once the briefing was done, supplies were unloaded from the jeep. Fresh water, food rations, and several tents. The group set up camp at the rock, and discussed their plans for the next day. Lisbon only hoped that they would get to Jane before it was too late.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

It was dark before Jane moved again. Charlotte and Angela sat quietly, watching him while he staggered to his feet. His head pounded. Jane had almost forgotten the blow to his head that had started the whole saga. But the point of impact throbbed as he ran his hand through his hair. The blonde curls were matted to his scalp, and the wound was filled with small grains of sand. He could feel as he ran his fingers over the wound that the skin around it was inflamed.

Jane headed back out and forced himself to a shrub. _These straggly shrubs have saved my life,_ he thought, pulling the sand away from the roots with his good arm.

He didn't even bother to shave the fibres with his knife. He knew that it was too risky to attempt using the knife with one hand. He used his teeth to tear at the bulb, and sucked the moisture out. He treated it like a piece of sugarcane, tearing the fibre and chewing on it to draw out the moisture. He made short work of the bulb, and sank to his knees with exhaustion.

He felt Angela's cool hand on his neck. "Patrick, don't over-exert yourself."

Jane looked over at her, slightly confused. "What are you still doing here?"

Angela laughed. "You are still delirious. That little bit of moisture is enough to keep you going, but not enough to stop the hallucinations."

Jane sat back on his backside. "Angela, what happens if they don't find me?"

Angela sat next to him and stretched back. Jane shivered against the night air, but Angela seemed unconcerned by the cold. Her white dress didn't have a speck of dirt on it, and she smiled at her husband. "Patrick, you know that Teresa will stop at nothing to find you."

Jane looked over his shoulder at the slightly iridescent shape of Charlotte curled up against the rock. He looked back at his late wife. "Angela, I have failed you. Both of you."

Angela shook her head. "Patrick Jane, neither of us wanted to watch you destroy your life in search of Red John. And we certainly would have wanted you to tell Teresa where you were going."

Jane nodded. "Angela, I was arrogant towards her. I don't want her to remove my chance for revenge. I have to make him pay."

Angela looked at him scoldingly. "So, risking your life is a better option?"

Jane hung his head. With Angela – just like when she had been alive – he couldn't hide his shame. "I now see I was wrong. Revenge won't bring either of you back."

Angela rested her head on his right shoulder. "Patrick, bring him to justice, but don't destroy your life."

Jane nodded, and shut his eyes. Angela began to hum a lullaby that Jane remembered from long ago. It was Charlotte's lullaby, written by Angela for their daughter.

"Gaze upon the starry sky,  
Little darling, don't you cry.  
Think upon our love so bright,  
It will take you through the night.  
Shut your sleepy, dreamy eyes,  
You are safe, loved, and wise.

Jane smiled. He staggered to his feet, and made his way back to where Charlotte lay. She was sleeping, and Jane stretched out next to her. Angela sat at his head, and ran her fingers through his hair. She continued to hum the lullaby, and Jane slipped into a fitful sleep.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The sun was high. Lisbon and Rigsby had been walking for almost six hours. As they walked, both agents were pensive. It had been three days since Jane had vanished, and Lisbon knew he had hit his threshold when it came to water. Any longer without water, and he was as good as dead.

Lisbon spotted something, and stopped short. Rigsby looked where she was gazing, and saw a flash of white. The two agents headed slowly over to the mass, and Lisbon felt her heart sink. It was a male skeleton. Lisbon examined the skeleton. "This has been out here at least one month." Lisbon concluded, rising to her feet and turning to Rigsby.

Rigsby nodded. He took out a pad of paper and scribbled down the co-ordinates of the skeleton. "Just in case we ever ID him."

The two agents noticed the dirt had been disturbed a little way away. The two agents looked at each other. "Well," Rigsby said. "We can definitely conclude that this was not dug by him." He gestured towards the skeleton.

Lisbon just frowned. Now that she knew what she was looking for, a very faint set of footprints was visible. She set out to follow them, and Rigsby followed close behind her. "It appears that Jane was walking east," she said.

The two of them walked together, and Lisbon felt her heart begin to pound in anticipation. They were very close to finding him. Very close.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Jane took a shallow breath. He lay in the shade, but his skin was cold. He knew that his water levels were getting dangerously low. Angela sat by his side. Charlotte was at his other side. Jane was seeing things that scared him. The smiley on his bedroom wall was plastered across the ruby sky. Rigsby and Van Pelt were there too. The scene where Jane had embarrassed Rigsby the first time they had met Van Pelt played in his mind.

Cho and his book sat on the far side of Angela. He didn't say anything to anybody. He just read his book in silence.

And then there was Lisbon. She wore a long green evening gown, her hair pulled up into a low bun. Her makeup was perfect, and Jane couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

She called to him. Her voice sounded far away. She called again, but Jane couldn't place why she sounded so panicked.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Lisbon looked up ahead of her. There was a second rock about a quarter of a mile away, about ten degrees to the left. She and Rigsby walked towards it. Lisbon figured that if Jane had to choose anywhere to shelter, it would be there. As they got closer, Lisbon could see that the sand around the rock was disturbed.

She broke into a run.

The sun was sinking behind her, and she could see a shape curled up at the base of the rock. "Jane!" she yelled. She pushed herself faster. "Jane!"

She reached the crumpled shape, and looked down at the prone figure in horror. The face was sunburnt, and badly blistered. The clothing was filthy, and some of it was shredded. And then there was the very obviously broken arm. Lisbon was scared to touch it. But she noted with relief that Jane was breathing. She bent down and pressed her hands to his face. "Patrick," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were dilated. He didn't seem to even see her in front of him. Lisbon pulled off her backpack and yanked out a bottle of water. She opened it and gently poured the cool liquid into his cracked mouth. He swallowed, and Lisbon sighed in relief.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Jane felt the liquid before his brain registered what it was. His eyes opened properly, and he swallowed reflexively. He raised his right hand and closed his fingers around the bottle. A second hand came up and sat on top of his. He focused on a pair of deep green eyes gazing down into his. The face was framed by black hair, and Jane pulled the bottle away. "I knew you would come too, Teresa."

Lisbon frowned. "Too?"

Jane nodded and gestured weakly to his left with his right hand. "The rest already got here before you."

Lisbon nodded. Jane was hallucinating. She had no idea who else was here, but she knew he needed more water in his system. She tilted the bottle back to his lips, and Rigsby came up next to her. He pulled out the satellite phone and dialed Van Pelt. Within minutes, the helicopter circled overhead. It landed on a flat area of desert about one hundred yards away, and two paramedics attended to Jane. They moved him to a stretcher, and one inserted a saline IV drip into his arm.

Jane was loaded into the helicopter by the paramedics, and Rigsby and Lisbon followed close behind.

Lisbon felt herself almost crying with relief as the chopper rose into the crimson air and headed off to safety.

 **A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please tell me how I am doing. I really appreciate it. Thanks again.**


	6. Honour - Epilogue: Home

Red Desert Sunset

 **A/N: This will be the final installment of this story. It will include an epilogue too. Thank you so much for following me on this journey. Your support has been amazing and I really do appreciate it. Thanks again.**

Chapter six – Honour

Lisbon emptied the paper packet onto the tiny table beside the bed. It was three days after Jane had been returned to society, and he was yet to wake up. He had been treated for extreme dehydration, a broken arm, and severe sunburn.

Inside the packet were all of the effects that had been found on Jane. It was a very small collection; just three things. One Lisbon recognised. His wedding ring. The doctors had managed to get it off of his finger without cutting it, for which Lisbon was relieved.

The second object was a knife. Long, sharp, and clearly not Jane's, Lisbon wondered where Jane could have gotten it from. She couldn't fathom how Jane could have come across a knife in the desert, but she figured he must have used it to stay alive.

The third item confused Lisbon. She held it up to the light and looked at it carefully. She realised with surprise that the object was a metacarpal. Her mind flicked back to the skeleton she and Rigsby had found. Lisbon had a feeling that Jane had found the knife there, and that he was trying to find the man's family.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. She had a favour to call in with an old friend.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The first thing Jane became aware of was sound. There was a low hum of noise in the background, and a steady beeping that seemed considerably closer. Then there were the textures. Soft against his skin, and cool to the touch. The smell hit him hard. Antiseptic, and harsh to his nostrils. He turned his head, and realised he had a soft pillow under his head.

He tried to open his eyes, but the light was harsh. He shut them and moaned. A cool hand on his right arm drew his attention, and he opened his eyes again. He got a glimpse of a pair of wide green eyes before the light was too unforgiving again. "Patrick," a voice said close to his ear. "Just give it time. Don't rush it."

Jane nodded, and rested his head back against the pillow. The hand on his arm moved down to rest in his own, and Jane carefully closed his fingers around it.

Jane didn't know how many days had passed since that first attempt to open his eyes, but he knew he was getting better all the time. He didn't open his eyes, but spent most of his time napping. He felt the nurses move his bed into a quieter room, and faded back into sleep as the bed was brought to a stop.

What felt like only a short time later, Jane turned his head and opened his eyes again. The light in the room had been turned down, and his eyes adjusted quite quickly. He turned his head to the left, and saw several machines standing next to the bed. There was a window beyond that, and he could see through a gap in the curtains that it was early evening. He had a tube in his arm, and he watched the drip for a few seconds. He turned his head to the right and realised that there was a person sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to his bed.

Lisbon surfaced, and looked over at him. She smiled when she saw his eyes were open. "I'm glad to see you're finally awake."

Jane smiled back. "It's good to be back," he croaked.

Lisbon stretched forwards and handed him the glass next to his bed. He took a grateful sip, and smiled. "I will never underestimate water ever again."

He watched Lisbon's face change, and frowned. She sat back in her chair. "Patrick Jane, don't you ever do that again. How could you go off into the desert like that without telling us? And what the hell happened in that hut?"

Jane looked down. "I'm sorry, Teresa. I was wrong. I was arrogant, and I should have told you. I was ambushed, hit on the side of the head, and dumped in the desert to die. It was by sheer chance that I was able to survive, but even then, I nearly didn't."

He ran his good hand over the dressing on the side of his head. His left arm was in a cast and strapped to his chest. He could feel his skin was tight, and that he would be peeling soon. But Jane was grateful for the woman next to him, who had found him before he could succumb to the effects of dehydration.

Lisbon sighed. "Jane, we are all just relieved we found you when we did. Two more hours and it would have been too late."

Jane looked down. "Forgive me, Teresa."

Lisbon smiled. He was impossible to stay mad at for too long. "Fine, but I want one more answer. Why did you have a finger bone in your pocket?"

Jane looked surprised. "I wanted to see if you could get him identified. I want to return his knife to the family."

Lisbon nodded. "I thought that might be what you wanted, so I called in a favour."

Jane looked surprised. "Favour?"

Lisbon nodded, smiling at his apparent doubt. "I know people."

Jane looked skeptical. "What kind of favour?"

Lisbon pulled out a file. "An FBI agent I helped out on a conference a few years back, Seeley Booth, just happens to be the liaison officer for the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington DC. I sent him the bone, and he got the scientists to analyse it for us. The owner of that finger bone is a Californian named Harry Martins. He was twenty-three, single, and no kids, lived with his parents. He went missing six months ago after going on a hike in the desert. One of his checkpoints was supposed to be that hut. But there were so few police officers for all of the cases they get, it was never investigated."

Jane opened the file and read the Missing Person's report. There was nothing in that report that Lisbon hadn't mentioned already. Then Jane turned over the page. There was a full anthropological report on the skeleton. "What is this?"

Lisbon took the file back momentarily. "The scientists at the Jeffersonian were so intrigued by the story behind the bone; they requested the rest of the skeleton to study. It was shipped out two days ago, and the report came back today. Your man you found, he was murdered."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Murdered?"

Lisbon nodded. "They found signs of abrasions on some of the bones, and apparently the throat was slit. There's more. We ran the DNA the scientists pulled against the blood on the wall."

She pulled out the results and handed them to Jane. His eyes widened in surprise. "It's a match."

Lisbon nodded. "Exactly. Turns out the skeleton you discovered was a victim of Red John."

Jane looked back at the missing person's report. "It looks like he surprised Red John at the hut, and got himself killed for it."

Lisbon shut the file and sat forwards in her chair. "It looks that way. But now we can tell his family what happened to him."

Jane nodded. "Please take the knife back to his family."

Lisbon stood up. "Rigsby and I plan on doing it tomorrow morning."

Jane looked down. "Send my condolences to the family."

Lisbon nodded and left, leaving Jane alone with his thoughts. Jane knew he was lucky to be alive, but something nagged him. What his hallucination of Angela had told him. He knew that he needed to give up the senseless hunt for Red John, to move on and start life new.

Jane decided that he would stay with the CBI, not to be close to the case, but to help the families who had experienced loss the way he had. To help them to find the closure he could never have.

He rested back against the bed, and felt himself relax for the first time since he had woken up under that rock. He knew the saga was over.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

 **Epilogue – Home**

Lisbon sat at her desk. She thought back at the events of the previous week. She and Rigsby had gone over to Harry Martins' family to tell them they had found their son. His mother had cried when she had been told the news. Lisbon had informed the family that the remains would be returned within the next few days.

Then an unlikely thing had happened. An invitation to the memorial service of Harry Martins arrived for Lisbon and her team. They had all attended that morning, including Jane. Mrs Martins had given him a hug, and cried into his shoulder. Jane now lay on his couch, relaxing after the morning's events. It had been three weeks since Lisbon had found Jane lying in the desert. He had recovered well, and was back at work for the time being.

That initial image of him as she had found him haunted her dreams. Many scenarios had gone through her mind as she had sat by his bedside for the first week he had been unconscious, none of them pleasant.

He had told her he intended to give up his pursuit of Red John. It had been Red John who had 'tipped' him off, and then ambushed him in the hut. He had left a sign, the vest, to taunt Jane's colleagues. Red John had not intended Jane to survive, but against all odds, he had.

Jane wouldn't be leaving, but merely moving on. "Angela and Charlotte would have wanted it," he had told her. "I need to honour what they would have wanted."

Lisbon had watched him hand over his copy of the Red John files, and he had begun to move on from the tragedy in his life. Lisbon didn't ask what Jane had experienced in the desert; honestly, she didn't want to know. Jane would talk when he was ready.

For now, the Martins family had closure, and Patrick Jane, for the first time in a long while, was finally home.

She looked over at the couch, and smiled to herself. It felt good to have her family home. All of them.

 **A/N2: I hope I did the end of this story justice. Please leave me a review and tell me what you liked, or what I could have done differently. Thank you to all of you for following, and special thanks to LouiseKurylo, nic73 and MissDonnie for your advice. It really meant a lot to me. Thanks again.  
Until next time,  
S**


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